


看着你的照片都心动了 (怎么办)

by were1993



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: College AU, M/M, Photographer Minghao, instagram model mingyu, side junshua
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-14
Updated: 2018-09-14
Packaged: 2019-07-12 05:52:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,518
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15988991
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/were1993/pseuds/were1993
Summary: My heart flutters just seeing your picture (What do I do?)Minghao is a photography student who's looking for a new model. Mingyu is everything he's looking for. (What do I do?)





	看着你的照片都心动了 (怎么办)

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt 40: Minghao is a photography student. He is on his senior year and has to take his final exam photoshoot. It's quite big problem, because he needs a new model, someone of whom he had never taken photos before and who will suit his vision. Seokmin shows him an Instagram account of Kim Mingyu. Minghao is amazed by him, because the boy perfectly fits his style. He sees Mingyu one day in real life, but is too shy to message him, thinking he would be to busy to even repond. He follows him for some time, but the deadline of the final project comes to an end rapidly. Minghao finally founds courage to message Mingyu. He finds out that Mingyu's outfits are inspired by Minghao's 'outfit of the day' photos on his own Instagram.

看着你的照片都心动了 (怎么办)

\---

A student chasing down a professor is an unfortunately common scene after midterms. The test scores are back, and someone is bound to be upset.

Xu Minghao usually doesn’t consider himself to be part of that crowd. He usually takes his scores in stride. He’s not the smartest kid on the block, but he works hard. He’s learned to let go of some classes— _microbiology, why the fuck did he decide to take that_ —and thank the high heavens he’s a photography major instead of a pre-med.

Yet today, he’s chasing after his final project advisor.

Minghao had submitted his final project proposal at the beginning of the year, much earlier than necessary, and he received his comments much earlier than everyone else. He had spent an entire year conceptualizing the perfect senior project, and he has received quite a few nods of approval in the department. Imagine his surprise when he received a one-line email response from his project adviser:

_Please reconsider your final project focus and resubmit a proposal.  – Professor Lee_

Weaving through the throngs of students trying to get to their next class, Minghao followed his professor closely. He knows Professor Lee is a busy lady, and if he waits for her office hours next week, Minghao thinks the anxiety will kill him. Yes, he’s being a little dramatic, but—

“Professor Lee, if it’s about the content—” Minghao begins.

“Myungho,” the professor sighs, stopping in her tracks. “You have great ideas, and you’re honestly one of the most creative kids I’ve ever had the pleasure to work with.”

Minghao swallows. He hears the _but_ somewhere.

“I understand you are fast friends with Junhui from theatre, _but_ ”—whelp, there it is—“this is the third time he’s been the subject of a project. I don’t know whether it’s because you’re shy or because Junhui’s just readily available, but you need to branch out before your works becomes too…consistent,” Professor Lee says gently, turning to face him. She has the guarded and weary look of someone trying to gauge whether their words were too harsh and whether he’s about to burst into tears. “Find a different model. Preferably someone you’ve never taken pictures for. Resubmit your project proposal and we can talk from there, okay?”

“I—uh, I just,” Minghao tries to say, but the words are caught in his throat. He’s not upset because of her comments. Constructive criticism is a must, but the thought that so many hours of hard work are just going down the drain like this—

“All of your projects have been fantastic, and any other of the project advisers would have given this a go. But I want you to do something _more_ for your senior project,” she says, giving him a very apologetic smile. “I believe in you Myungho. Just contact me if you run into any difficulties okay?”

“Okay,” Minghao responds. He gives her a little bow as she walks off. He looks down at his shoes and sighs deeply. “Okay, back to the drawing board.”

\---

“Wait, didn’t Professor Yeon already approve of your project?” Seokmin asks.

His friend originally came over to see steal a charger and snag a lunch buddy. After being scared out of ten years of his life from Minghao lying on a table in the dark, Seokmin decided to stay to convince Minghao to get off the table and maybe sit like a normal person. Luck is not on Seokmin’s side as Minghao flopped face first into the nearest couch.

The unofficial drawing board of the visual arts department is a lounge with dirty couches and equally dirty whiteboards. Unfinished pieces of work and scribbles of ideas are taped up on the walls, and the bulletin board is covered in little post-its, looking for roommates and just random words of wisdom or utter stupidity. The original couches and chair are well out of their prime and falling apart. At some point, the students just started bringing chairs and bean bags from their own dorms to improve the décor, and the Housing department absolutely hates it.

“Professor Yeon approved of the project proposal draft,” Minghao said with his face smooshed into a stolen couch. He’s not sure how much Seokmin managed to make out. Lifting his head, Minghao catches Seokmin’s blank expression. Alright. Minghao rolls onto his side and repeats himself. “He approved of the proposal draft last year, but Professor Lee is my project advisor. She needs to approve the project itself.”

“Oh, ooh, damn, that sucks,” Seokmin frowns. “So, what are you going to do?”

“Find a new model,” Minghao says. “Has to be someone I’ve never shoot before.”

“Oh, that shouldn’t be too hard,” Seokmin says. He points around the room. “You could literally choose anyone.”

“But I don’t want to”—Minghao points around the room in an exaggerated motion—“literally choose anyone,” he whines. “I want to find someone who, well, someone I don’t need to redo— _arg_.”

“Someone who fits your previous project vision?” Seokmin suggests.

“Yes!” Minghao declares, sitting up on the couch. “I don’t want to redo everything! It’s hard enough to find someone who can present both extremes like Junnie-hyung. I just wanted to keep with the whole yin-yang theme, but have yang within yin and have yin within yang. The precarious balance between night and day, good and evil—”

“I will pretend I understand what you just said there,” Seokmin interrupts. He pulls out his phone and moves over to sit next to Minghao. “Well, luckily for you, I was helping Seungkwan and Soonyoung-hyung recruit so I just met a whole ton of new people! Here, I think you’ve meet Jonghyun-hyung before—”

Seokmin bombards him with the Instagram profiles of at least twenty different people. Minghao makes noncommittal noises at each new profile. It’s not that he doesn’t think these people are attractive people or anything superficial like that, but rather it’s hard to really glean too much off selfies and what Minghao likes to call ‘personality photos’.

“Actually, what about Hansol—?” 

Chwe Hansol’s Instagram is the classic example of personality photo overload; all he has are collections of memes, screenshots of his playlist, pictures of art pieces and some artsy shots of himself. He seems like a cool guy to hang out with, but Minghao needs to meet the kid before deciding whether he fits his vision.

“Uh…and then, _oh!_ ” Seokmin shouts, more or less in Minghao’s ear. “I met this guy from architect! He’s like an Instagram personality? Or maybe just an Instagram model? I don’t know, but anyways, he’s super tall and really nice though!”

“Uh huh,” Minghao winces. He rubs his poor ears, hoping to soothe them from the volume. “Instagram model, right.”

“Kim Mingyu!” Seokmin yells excitedly before shoving another profile into his face. “Apparently he cooks well, cleans well and he’s taller than Jun-hyung!”

“I’m looking for a model, not a boyfriend—” Minghao begins dismissively. He looks down at the phone screen, and the rest of his scathing comment dies in the back of his throat.

If he were looking for a boyfriend—which he isn’t by the way, Minghao would not be completely against someone like Kim Mingyu.

Kim Mingyu has a very clean looking Instagram profile with a significant number of followers. From Seokmin’s rapid scrolling, Minghao could only pick out a couple photos—a full body shot in a handsome navy blazer with edgy looking patches, a mirror selfie with his phone covering one eye and a picture of a banana?

“And yeah, he does these outfit of the day things too. What do you abbreviate that to again? And can you believe that he—” Seokmin rambles on, scrolling up and down the feed.

“It’s OOTD, and stop _that_ ,” Minghao whines. He grabs the phone out of Seokmin’s hands and clicks on a random photo. “I can’t even get a good look.”

“Mr. I’m-not-looking-for-a-boyfriend ignored at least _ten_ different profiles,” Seokmin says with an eyebrow raise. “But once we get to Mr. Instagram Model, suddenly he wants to get a _good look_ , huh?”

Minghao pointedly ignores his friend and focuses on the random picture he’s selected. It’s a picture of Kim Mingyu in the softest looking white sweater with his hair in a gentle tousle. His canine tooth peeks out just enough to give him a mischievous boyish charm.

_Yin inside Yang._

“Aw, that’s pretty cute,” Seokmin coos. He looks away as though he were trying to locate a memory. “But when he came to the recruitment thing, he definitely had a rougher look? Rougher is probably not the right word. Uhhhh.”

Minghao returns to the feed and sees the picture right next to the fluffy sweater. Ah, this is what Seokmin meant. The contrast is startling. Mingyu is sporting black ripped jeans, a simple white low cut t-shirt, and a shiny leather jacket. His hair is half up, giving the other man a slicker look, but that smile—oh, Minghao thinks his heart fluttered a little—was so utterly sweet.

 _Yang within Yin_.

Minghao breathes in. He sees his vision— _yin and yang, the rough and the soft, the dark and the light_. He sees it oh-so-clearly on this Kim Mingyu. It helps that he’s got a Gucci belt and the Kingsnake loafers. Great taste.

He’s found his model.

\---

Minghao breathes out and deflates. Who is he kidding?

Fiddling with the hem of his shirt, Minghao stares wistfully across the lawn at the rowdy group. In the middle of the group, Kim Mingyu seems to have as many friends in real life as he has followers on Instagram.

Minghao has been trying to maybe get Mingyu alone for even just ten seconds. Just enough time to ask— _I know this seems a little out of the blue because you probably don’t know me and no, I’m not a stalker, my friend just showed me your Instagram account and I’m a photography student and I was really hoping that you could maybe be my model for my senior project and I can’t really pay you but I can find some way to compensate you so please would you be the subject of my senior project?_ —and run away.

Unfortunately, Mingyu seems to have friends with him at every point of his day.

Over the past couple of days, Minghao has had a chance to get a good look at Mingyu—from afar and from his Instagram profile. Minghao doesn’t even need to state how handsome the other is, especially not when a couple hundred comments say so with heart eyes in every post. Instead, Minghao was particularly interested in Mingyu’s fashion choices.

Mingyu started on Instagram with classic boyfriend looks and questionable mirror selfie technique. Twenty posts later, Mingyu confessed to having opened this account to win a bet with a friend— _He said I couldn’t get over 200 followers on Instagram and I was drunk with my paycheck in my pocket so I bet it all, so thanks! I don’t have to fork over a month of hardwork! #ulzzang #200followers #thanks_ —and instead of letting the account die, Mingyu continued.

Minghao scrolls up and marvels at the amount of styles the other has tried—from very simple prints to leather everything, from basic sunglass to experimental accessorizing, from very classic looks to borderline futuristic punk.

Minghao nods approvingly. It seems like Mingyu got into Gucci and accessory rings around the same time Minghao did. While Mingyu has the Gucci Kingsnake loafers, Minghao has the lion ones. Good taste.

(Minghao worked his ass off to buy them. He jumped at every wedding, graduation, birthday party, concert, anything that offered a little extra cash. To this day, those are his go-to shoes when he needs a little extra flare for his #stayclassy #OOTD.)

A loud laugh distracts him, and Minghao looks up. Mingyu is laughing loudly at something his friend said, and Minghao looks down with a sigh. He’s not getting Mingyu alone any time soon.

He considers the message button on Instagram and even presses it, but Minghao doesn’t know what to say. He stares at the blank message box and exits out of the app.

Who is he kidding? Mingyu has over a thousand followers. He probably wouldn’t even bother to check his messages.

Minghao opens his front camera and takes a rather sloppy selfie with his chin on his free hand. Thankfully the afternoon lighting is good, and his brand new _Code 08_ rings reflect nicely in the picture. He posts it on Instagram with a thinking emoji and a sun emoji.

He waits and watches the likes trickle in.

Liked by **chwenotchew** , **9yu_owo** , and **22** **others**

 **SDF09EEAJJJS192** BUY BRAND NAME SHIRTS FOR 50% OFF

 **9gyu_owo** those rings!!! I want!!!

 **fashioninmysoul** omg, r those new??!?

Minghao puts his phone down and smiles. Pretty good for a minute.  Even though he doesn’t have a thousand plus followers, he does have a good little following on his fashion and photography account. He knows he gets an average of about 150-ish likes on each picture.

Minghao looks over at the group again. Mingyu is on his phone, smiling excitedly and pulling his friends to look at the screen. His friends seem to be teasing him as Mingyu’s smile fell into a sulking pout. Minghao watches them for a moment longer before realizing that the group isn’t leaving anytime soon.

Minghao breathes out in a loud sigh. Whelp, maybe next time.

\---

Minghao gasps. He almost chokes on the air he breathes in.

 _That ring_. Minghao was sure no one on campus knew of the little-known designer _Code 08_ , but in Mingyu’s most recent Instagram post, he’s showing off a monochrome thick band that Minghao _knows_ can be taken apart into two. What good taste—!

Now he’s even more interested in Kim Mingyu.

“Then message him,” Junhui says from the living room, lounging half on and half off the couch. Minghao realizes he said his last thoughts out loud in Chinese and curses. Of course, he’d be with Junhui when it happens. “Confess your love and tell him how he takes your breath away!”

“I just want him to take pictures of him,” Minghao grumbles. He shoves his phone into his pocket.

“I want to take pictures of him, chat about obscure designers with him, hold his hand, maybe kiss— _mph_!” Junhui teases before Minghao walks over and shoves a couch cushion over his face. Instead of fearing for his life as Minghao had hoped, Junhui merely swats the cushion away and giggles. “I’m being silenced for speaking the truth!”

“For lying you mean!”

“I am lying down but I didn’t know that was such a crime,” Junhui gasps theatrically, clutching at his heart. “Had I known I would die for lying down on this couch.”

“Why are you even here?” Minghao sighs, flopping down onto the floor.

“You live with my boyfriend,” Junhui says, pointing at the room across from Minghao’s.

“Well, collect him and go,” Minghao says deadpan.

“He’s not home yet,” Junhui states matter-of-factly. “It’s almost halfway into the year and you don’t know that he has class all day on Thursdays?”

“As much as I would like to memorize Joshua-hyung’s schedule, I actually have better things to do,” Minghao states in the same matter-of-fact tone of voice. Instead of being insulted, Junhui laughs. “Wait, then why are you here?” 

“His afternoon class got canceled so we’re going out to lunch,” Junhui informs. He rolls off the couch and sits next to Minghao on the floor. “And I haven’t seen my cute _didi_ in a while.”

“You’ve seen me,” Minghao shrugs, pulling out his phone. “Now go wait for hyung in his room.”

“Hm, so who is this Kim Mingyu?” Junhui asks. “Why are you interested in him?”

“No one,” Minghao mumbles. He unlocks his phone and unfortunately, a large selfie of said Kim Mingyu pops up. He doesn’t close his Instagram app fast enough, and Junhui snatches the phone out of his hands. “ _Ge_!”

“Oh! I know him—well, I know of him!” Junhui exclaims. “He was one of Joshua’s students last year! Huh, so that was his name. Oh, I didn’t know you like the tall, dark and handsome types! Do you want me to introduce you to him?”

“Wen Jun Hui, I swear if you—”

The front door jingles and Junhui jumps off the couch in a sudden burst of energy. Minghao rolls his eyes and sit up onto the couch. He’s used to Junhui’s brand of crazy, and he’s about to call out a lazy greeting to his housemate when he hears Junhui yell:

“Hey Mingyu! I don’t know if you remember me, but I’m Junhui, Josh’s boyfriend. Have you met Minghao before?”

What. No.

“Oh, hello, I remember you hyung. Uh, wait, who?” 

Fuck. Minghao doesn’t recognize that voice from overplayed Instagram stories. Nope. He does not recognize Kim Mingyu’s voice.

“Minghao, Myungho, Haohao, eh, whatever is easier,” Junhui says, talking rapidly. “He’s Josh’s housemate and I don’t think you guys have met huh? Why don’t we all go out to lunch together? He also does Instagram things—”

“Woah, babe, slow down—” Minghao cringes at the sound of an obnoxious lip smack—“Is Myungho even home?” Joshua asks.

Minghao slides down into the couch so his head can’t be seen from the back. Maybe Junhui will—

“Yep!” Junhui chirps happily.

“Are you rolling around on the floor again?” Joshua calls out teasingly. Minghao frowns. That was _once_ , okay, maybe six times.

Minghao sits up from his slouch and turns to look at the newcomers. Junhui has the fakest innocent smile and seems to be sharing not-so-subtle glances with Joshua. Minghao watches Joshua take off his shoes and focuses on his housemate stubbornly. He refuses to look at the other person.

“Xiao Haohao!” Junhui calls. He grabs the other person and drag them in front of Minghao. When they’re that close, Minghao can’t really divert his eyes anywhere without being too obvious and rude. “This is Mingyu. Mingyu, this is Xiao Haohao.”

“Hi,” Minghao says, staring down at the couch cushion.

“Hi, uh, I’m Mingyu,” Mingyu says.

Minghao stifles a sigh and finally looks at the other properly. Today, Mingyu is dressed casually in a white hoodie and sweat pants, but even so, his proportions make his outfit look like it belonged on some clothing catalogue. 

“Yeah, I’m Myungho,” Minghao introduces with forced nonchalance.  

Mingyu looks down at him expectantly and maybe a little hopefully. Minghao isn’t sure what the other wants, but something catches his eye when Mingyu starts fiddling with the strings of his hoodie.

“Nice ring,” Minghao says, pointing at the beautiful puzzle _Code 08_ ring. “Have you tried taking it apart?”

“Taking it apart?” Mingyu echoes.

“Yeah, _Code 8_ has a line of uh, well, I guess couple rings,” Minghao says, running his hand through his hair. Oh gosh, his face is growing hot because Mingyu just keep _staring_ at him. “You can separate that ring apart into two, and uh—”

“Want to come to lunch with us and you two can keep talking about obscure designers?” Junhui interrupts. He clasps his hands together, swinging them exaggeratedly, and even making kissy faces behind Mingyu’s back. Minghao wants to throw the couch cushion at the elder, but he wants to leave a good impression on their guest because, uh, he’s Joshua’s friend. Yeah. That’s why.

“Unfortunately, I have class in ten minutes,” Minghao says, trying to sound as disinterested as possible. “So I’ll have to pass.”

“Next time?” Joshua offers, wearing a different shirt than when he came in. Minghao blinks. He didn’t even notice his housemate go into his room and come back out. “The four of us can get lunch some other time.”

“Just skip class,” Junhui shrugs. “It’s not like you haven’t—” Minghao gives Junhui a look he’d never admit to be pleading “—but it’s good that you want to be a good student.”

“Be sure that you work on that project of yours,” Joshua says, ushering out the other two. He has a firm hand on Junhui’s back. “You’d be amazed how quickly the year will end.”

“I will,” Minghao responds just as the door clicks shut.

His eyes widen. Oh fuck. That’s right. He could have just asked—wait, no, that would have been too awkward and then he’d have to admit _how_ he knows of Mingyu and—okay, never mind, he couldn’t have just asked.

Minghao falls face flat into the couch. Never mind. Just never mind.

\---

Joshua is right as he tends to be.

The end of the year rushes towards him. Minghao doesn’t even remember what kept him occupied during first semester—other than his not-so-successful attempts to reach out to Mingyu and re-watching that one Instastory of Mingyu putting his chin on someone’s palm an embarrassing amount of times—and it’s already second semester. It’s already _midterms_ of second semester. Where did the time go?

He is nowhere closer to his senior project as he was four months ago. All his friends have tried to introduce new models or even offered themselves up, but Minghao is stubbornly clinging to his vision: the one with Mingyu in it.

He knows it’s concerning, and even Professor Lee emailed him— _if it’s really that hard, I’ll just approve your previous project. If you don’t complete your senior project, you can’t graduate_. Even so, he doesn’t want to let go. His ever-so often cruising of Mingyu’s Instagram profile solidifies the project in his mind.

He wants Mingyu.

But he hasn’t asked Mingyu. He hasn’t physically seen Mingyu for a good month.

A mix of stress from his stagnant senior project, midterms, job searching and not being able to find that damn orange Dior visor he wanted pushes Minghao to do something crazy at four in the morning two day into midterm week.

He slams his laptop shut and grabs his phone. Minghao found Kim Mingyu’s Instagram profile and hit the message button. Instead of hesitating in the message box, Minghao just started typing.

_Hi, my name is Myungho. I’m Joshua-hyung’s housemate. We kind of met a couple months ago, but I was hoping that you could be the subject of my senior project. I’m a photography student and I really want to take your pictures because you look really good in your Instagram photos. I like your style and you’re basically the perfect fit for my vision. I promise I’ll take really nice photos._

Even in his stress-addled brain, Minghao realized how scattered the message is.

_And oh, Seokmin was the one who showed me your Instagram._

Minghao nods approvingly at the last sentence as if it made the entire message better. He sends it and closes out the app—out of sight, out of mind.

A good two weeks after midterms, Minghao is waiting in line to get lunch at a local café when he receives the notification. He almost drops his phone in shock. 

Oh god. He doesn’t remember what he messaged Mingyu, and he had been too scared to open the message again after realizing what he did.

Minghao doesn’t even get his salad and just runs towards an empty corner of the university courtyard. If he’s going to be disappointed, he doesn’t want the entire lunch crowd to see it.

He can already see Mingyu’s response in his mind: _Thank you for liking my photos uh, but I don’t quite remember you. Unfortunately, I’ll be busy from now until graduation so best of luck finding a model for your project!_

Minghao already feels the disappointment sink into his stomach. He almost doesn’t open the message, but he forces himself to.

 _Thank you for liking my photos_ —Minghao sighs, letting his other hand hang limp against his side, so he was right— _and yes, you’re Joshua-hyung’s roommate! We never did end up having lunch together…but I’d be down! Just let me know when you’d like to meet up!_

See? Mingyu is too busy—wait, _I’d be down_ , wait.

Minghao clutches onto his phone with both hands. Mingyu agreed. Minghao rereads the message again and again and—Mingyu _agreed_.

Minghao falls onto the lawn and rolls in the grass with loud giggles. 

“This is the seventh time.”

Minghao looks up to see his housemate staring down at him in amusement. Joshua nudges him with his shoe and laughs when Minghao rolls away from the offending foot.

“Whatever happened, I’m glad you’re happy,” Joshua says. He gives a tiny wave. “I gotta go, but next time just roll around at home. Someone’s gotta clean the floors.”

\---

For their first meet up, Minghao plays it cool.

They chose a café on campus—equidistant from their living arrangements. Minghao knows he doesn’t need to dress up. Still, he chooses his clothes very carefully that morning, but he doesn’t want to look like he tried too hard. It’s not a date, no matter how much Junhui teased.

He’s feeling very comfortable in his dark sleeveless turtleneck and gray wide leg pants. He chose a few simple earrings and added a slim chain to his sunglasses. Minghao almost didn’t wear his _Code 08_ ring, but he ended up slipping it on before walking out the door.

Minghao insists he just wants to leave a good impression, and he almost believes himself if it weren’t for his clammy hands and the butterflies in his chest.

Sitting across from him, Mingyu looks every bit of the Instagram model with 1.1K followers—wide frame sunglasses, solid navy blazer, low cut white tee, black ripped jeans and a shiny large faced watch. He hangs his folded sunglasses on the V of his tee, and it pulls the shirt opening down even more.

Minghao only allows himself a cursory glance before pulling out his folder from his tote.

They talk about the project, and Minghao is able to put on his most professional face for it. He shows Mingyu his mock-ups, his inspirations and some photos he took with Junhui before his project got rejected.

While he seemed a little nervous at first, Mingyu is warm and personable. His personality in real life seems to be the same if not more down to earth than on Instagram. He listens attentively to Minghao’s words and offers little bits of rather surprising insight.

It’s easy to talk to Mingyu. Minghao doesn’t feel like the only person talking nor does he feel overwhelmed by Mingyu. As childish as it sounds, they took turns talking and listening, and Minghao ends up talking about everything and nothing for longer than he’s ever during a first meeting. They end up derailing into long discussions about dogs for an hour before realizing how off track they got.

“Okay, we’ll meet next week to get some preliminary shots,” Minghao says, closing his scheduler. “And I guess go from there?”

“Sounds good,” Mingyu nods. He scooches back into his chair, and Minghao blinks. When did they get so close?

At some point, they had migrated towards each other and were shoulder to shoulder. Minghao didn’t even notice how comfortable the warmth and weight of Mingyu’s arm pressing into his was, but now that Mingyu moved away, Minghao wishes he’d stay.

Watching Mingyu try to quietly slide his chair away and failing miserable, Minghao smothers a giggle. In one large movement, Mingyu hits his knee against one of the table legs and bends over in pain. The action causes his sunglasses to fall off the v neck of his shirt, giving Minghao a great view of the other’s collarbones and lower. He doesn’t know how long it takes for Mingyu to get resituated, but from the knowing look in Mingyu’s eyes, Minghao knows he got caught.

Embarrassed, Minghao stares down at his drink to avoid staring again, but Mingyu isn’t bothering to hide his gaze. He stares unabashedly at Minghao, and it’s the same expectant and hopeful look as before.

“You look good,” Mingyu says. Minghao does look up at this sudden compliment. He could mentally put a puppy filter over Mingyu’s current expression, complete with a wagging tail. He seems to be waiting for something. “You always look good though so I guess that’s, uh, yeah.”

“How would you know?” Minghao asks with a raised eyebrow.

“Your outfits are always—oh, uh, I mean,” Mingyu stumbles.

“My outfits are always,” Minghao echoes, trailing off on the last word.

“You know what,” Mingyu sighs. “Just forget I said anything.”

“Are you stalking me?” Minghao asks jokingly, but Mingyu freezes with an extremely guilty expression. Oh shit. Was the other guy really stalking—?

“I—I follow your Instagram,” Mingyu admits quickly. “I’ve been following your Instagram since freshman year.”

“No way, I would have totally noticed if _you_ , Mr. Instagram Model, were following me,” Minghao frowns. Freshman year? He had a total of maybe 7 followers at the time—one had been his cousin and another Junhui so technically five.

“That account was a joke account to be honest,” Mingyu explains. Minghao already knows but he nods along. “I didn’t really plan to continue it but then by chance, I saw your Instagram profile and…well, you’re really cool.”

Minghao feels his face slowly heat up.

“You had these outfit of the day posts that were really cool, and I didn’t really care too much about what I wore until…well, I saw how cool you looked,” Mingyu mumbles. Minghao furrows his brows in confusion and leans in. He heard what Mingyu said. He just wants to hear it again. “Your outfit of the day pictures are really cool, and they inspire me.” 

Even though he wanted to hear those words, Minghao still finds himself shying away in embarrassment. To think that Mr. Instagram Model here was inspired by Minghao who is now inspired by Mingyu.

“And so it made me really happy when I saw your post with the _Code 08_ rings ‘cause well,” Mingyu says with large sweeps of his hand. “That was the first designer I didn’t follow you into, and somehow we both liked it.”

“Well, after following me for a full four years, you were bound to develop great taste,” Minghao shrugs. Mingyu rolls his eyes, but his smile is ridiculously fond. “Wait, does this mean you have a different Instagram account?”

“Yeah,” Mingyu admits, scratching the back of his neck. He offers up his phone, and Minghao recognizes the account **9gyu_owo**. Oh, the guy who leaves a lot of ‘ _I want!!_ ’ comments. “I don’t really use it other than to follow you though.”

“Can’t bother to follow me when you’re famous?” Minghao asks with a pointed look. He’s teasing, but Mingyu can’t tell yet. “Don’t wanna follow a small account huh?”

Mingyu seems to panic for a little, trying to find the right words. Minghao lets him stumble, and he’s just about to let the other off the hook when Mingyu blurts out:

“I didn’t want you to think I was copying you!”

Minghao blinks.

“You introduced me to a lot of brands and different styles and I didn’t want you to think that I was just…stealing from you,” Mingyu explains, slouching down. His voice gets smaller and smaller.

Minghao’s first reaction is to laugh. He’s gone through Mingyu’s Instagram more times than he’d like to admit, and he can’t recall any outfit that even looks remotely like anything from his own feed. Sure, they both had accessories from the same brands. Sure, they might own a couple of the same shirts, but who doesn’t have a basic Gucci print shirt?  

But Mingyu has this troubled look on his face. It seems to truly bother him, and Minghao doesn’t know how Mingyu would react to being openly laughed at.

“So what did you take out of my closet?” Minghao asks instead.

“Huh?”

“I can’t think of anything else that would make me think that you’re stealing from me,” Minghao clarifies. “So what did you take out of my closet?”  

“I—wait, what?” Mingyu sputters. “No, it’s ‘cause I was inspired by some of your outfits and so I kind of went for that same feel!”

“So you didn’t steal anything out of my closet,” Minghao says slowly.

“No, I didn’t,” Mingyu says just as slowly. “But—”

“That’s good,” Minghao interrupts. He twists the ring on his finger. “You’d stretch them out.”

“Everything you wear is like three sizes too big for you,” Mingyu frowns. “They’d fit me fine. I’m pretty sure I’d fit into most of your clothes.”

“If you wanted to borrow my clothes, you can just ask nicely,” Minghao smirks. Mingyu opens his mouth but all that comes out is sputtering. Laughing, Minghao looks down at the ring he’s fiddling with and he remembers the other’s comment _I want!!!_ Tugging it off, Minghao places the ring in the palm of his hand and holds it out. “I’ll let you borrow this ring if you ask nicely.”

Minghao waits as Mingyu stares at the ring in surprise. Minghao himself is also surprised that he made this offer. He usually doesn’t like lending his accessories to other people, much less practical strangers. Minghao tells himself it’s an extra incentive for Mingyu to be on board for his project and not because he wants to feel the warmth of the other’s skin against his.  

“I’ll trade you instead,” Mingyu says, swallowing thickly.

He watches curiously as Mingyu pulls off his own ring—the thick _Code 08_ band—and twists it apart. Mingyu places one half of the band in Minghao’s open palm and takes the offered ring. Mingyu’s fingers are warm and clumsy, fishing for Minghao’s ring a couple times before getting a good grasp on it.

Minghao stares at slimmer band the other left behind. These rings were technically couple rings—how does he interpret this? He looks up at Mingyu for an explanation, but the other man is avoiding his gaze, fidgeting with Minghao’s ring. Mingyu meets his eye for just a second, and Minghao doesn’t think he’s ever seen someone turn so red so quickly.

He looks down at the slim band again. Minghao thinks he knows what’s going on, but what if he’s wrong? What if he’s taking this completely wrong? Well, what’s the worst that can happen? His model runs off, he doesn’t finish his senior project, he doesn’t graduate, he returns home to China in shame and there goes the family honor.

While all those thoughts raced through Minghao’s mind, Mingyu is fiddling with Minghao’s ring restlessly. In a careless movement, Mingyu drops the ring and makes a mad scramble to catch it before it rolls off the table. Slapping his hand over the escaping ring, he succeeds and, from the shocked look on his face, Mingyu doesn’t succeed often.

Mingyu looks up with a triumphant smile, and Minghao makes his decision right then. So what if he dishonors the family cow? He’ll deal with that later.

“If you wanted to ask me out on a date,” Minghao says. He waits and watches. Mingyu has that same expectant and hopeful look. Minghao breathes in. Here goes nothing. “You can just ask me nicely.”

“I did!” Mingyu says indignantly, pointing at the ring.

“This is asking me to be your boyfriend,” Minghao says, holding up the ring between his thumb and pointer finger. He holds his other hand out across the table like he’s asking for something else, and he supposes he is. “Ask me out on a date first.”

Minghao doesn’t know what he expected, but he doesn’t expect Mingyu to lean forward, placing his chin on Minghao’s open palm. Minghao almost jerks his hand away. The warmth and weight of Mingyu’s chin keeps his hand frozen in place.

“Go out on a date with me?” Mingyu asks.

\---

_Myungho,_

_I was very impressed with how your project came to be. You really delivered the ‘more’ I knew you could. It was very different from your previous works. Instead of the usual faraway shots that isolated the subject from a chaotic background, you got up-close with your model. While your previous works gave a very all-seeing and distant feel, this very warm and intimate view point gives more depth to your subject._

_You really did take yourself out of your comfort zone, and all I can say is that it will be incredibly valuable for you and your career later on._

_It was a spectacular senior exhibition. Congratulations on graduating and please do keep in contact._

_Professor Lee_

\---

“Why don’t you wear your wedding band?”

It takes Minghao a moment to realize that question is directed towards him. He looks up at his curious intern who’s fiddling with the hem of his shirt nervously. His new intern seems to have a habit of blurting out questions, and while some of his assistants don’t particularly like it, Minghao doesn’t mind.

“Who says this isn’t my wedding band?” Minghao questions back, twisting off the lens of his camera.

“It doesn’t match your husband’s,” the intern explains dutifully.

“Wedding bands don’t have to match,” Minghao shrugs, and he’s a little impressed. Mingyu maybe stops by the studio once a month. Their rings are a detail even some of his closest friends don’t notice.

“But your ring looks like those puzzle rings that were popular years ago,” his intern says. “It looks like there’s another half of it.”

“Good eye,” Minghao comments. He packs the lens carefully into its case before taking out the one he’s using for today’s shoot. “Now if you could use that good eye to see that crooked light over there…”

“Oh! On it!”

Minghao watches his intern scramble away to fix the lighting and chuckles.

“What are you snickering over here about?”

Minghao doesn’t flinch at the voice next to his ear or the arms that wind around his shoulders. He’s actually more surprised his husband didn’t come over earlier. Mingyu doesn’t exactly enter the studio quietly, and the explosion of giggles from his assistants tipped him off quite a while ago.

“About how you think you can startle me with all that stomping,” Minghao quips.

“Rude,” Mingyu scoffs.

“Love you too,” Minghao says. His eyes catch the gleam of the other’s ring finger. “Oh, not wearing the thousand-dollar band today?”

“Sometimes I wanna be matching with my husband,” Mingyu says with a shrug.

“Boyfriend, you mean,” Minghao responds.

“What? Hao, we’ve been married for—”

“This was you asking me to be your boyfriend,” Minghao interrupts, holding up his left hand with his ring. He twists around and watches Mingyu’s expression go from exasperated to fond.

“If I wanted to ask you to be my husband, do I need to ask nicely?” Mingyu questions. “Again?”

“Uh-huh,” Minghao nods. He holds out his hand with his palm upwards. Mingyu frowns at him, but Minghao stares right back with a resolute look.

Knowing when to surrender, Mingyu sighs and places his chin on Minghao’s palm.

“Be mine?” Mingyu asks. Leaning in, Minghao presses a quick kiss against the other’s lips.

“You have all of me.”

\---

这是我的真心 every everything

**Author's Note:**

> I took some artistic liberties with this one haha My thoughts got a little muddled towards the end but I hope you still enjoy it though!


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